


Love Is Blindness

by MycroftianTimelady



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: BLACKWING - Freeform, Bit of rough and tumble, Consensual, Dirk Gently - Freeform, Friedkin deserves all the love, Friedkin deserves happiness, Hugo my boi, M/M, Osmund Priest is His Own Warning, Priest is a bastard, Priest is a dick here I’m sorry, Smut, Some reference to the show I guess, To quote Fleabag the Priest is quite hot, implied - Freeform, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftianTimelady/pseuds/MycroftianTimelady
Summary: Just a short snapshot into Hugo Friedkin’s relationship with the scary-but-alluring Osmund Priest.
Relationships: Hugo Friedkin/Osmund Priest, Priestkin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Love Is Blindness

If when it began, things were not like _this_ , he couldn’t remember.

Life was skipping through the adverts, to reach the main event, with Osmund: in more ways than one. Until you found yourself tangled up in a heap of woodsmoke and whiskey in the early hours. Until you found yourself alone as red streaks from the window suggested it was morning, and only a ghost of scent could give evidence for the night before.

Fearful eyes had first gazed upon him, an effortless sense of power as he awoke to the grey silhouette: dangerous. Alluring. Fear can be a curious emotion: a twisting breath of smoke in the lungs, liqueur-sweet as it reaches the stomach and becomes... something else?

He couldn’t deny it, he was confused. Confused, which became ‘utterly intoxicated’, as their bodies had rolled together, rough skin against smooth, fingertips trailing his lips as though to sink in.

“Is this what you want?” He would be asked. The question would be answered, without hesitation.

Blood might be drawn, and he would not notice. Until dawn light awoke him, and hours later, eyes fixated on the amber lamp suspended from the ceiling, he would notice the dampness of his chin. And rolling to bury his pitiful face, he would notice the dark stain on the pillow slip.

Maybe he _could_ remember...


End file.
